


Headed South

by Lightspeed



Series: Monstrous Intent [15]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Dullahan - Freeform, Dullahan!Soldier, Faun!Scout, Fauns & Satyrs, M/M, Masturbation, Monsters, Neck Sex? idk how to tag this, Undead, Werewolf!Demoman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-24 00:08:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1584488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightspeed/pseuds/Lightspeed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Scout informs Sniper that there’s something he’s just GOTTA see, Sniper learns what Soldier really is, and what sort of interesting things one can get up to when shagging a dullahan.</p><p>(Warning: being that this involves sex and dullahan!Soldier, reasonable amounts of squick are to be expected.  I'm unsure how to tag this sex, but it should be mentioned that Sniper has sex with the empty void that is Soldier's neck.  It is not gory or visceral, but it is certainly strange.  So be warned.  Weird sex ahoy!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Headed South

When Scout had come to him after work, Sniper hadn't been too keen on company. His day had been grueling, dealing with the RED Spy hunting him down and staying at his side like a shadow that he owed money. He was tired, he was sweaty, and he really just wanted a shower, a snack, and a good stiff drink. Maybe drag himself into Demoman's room and ask for a warm body to curl up against. The bomber was a cuddler of storied proportions, and knew he could use it.

But following him into the showers, Scout proved he wasn't planning on letting up, stripping alongside his friend in the locker room. "Man, Snipes, you know I ain't gonna fuck with your evenin' ritual unless I got good reason! I'm tellin' you, Soldier's got somethin' you gotta see! He hit respawn as the round ended so he just went to his quarters. You'll love it, I promise!"

"And just what am I going to love so much?" Sniper asked, chucking his grimy uniform into a pile, leaving him wearing only his wolf-fang necklace. He scratched absently at his ass as he grabbed his wash kit from his locker and headed into the showers, followed closely by the clicking of Scout's hooves.

"See, I can't tell you," Scout shrugged, his dog tags half-stuck to his smooth chest, tacky with sweat. "Couple 'a reasons, one bein' that it's kind of a secret so I ain't gonna flap my lips about it with the others around." The faun indicated their coworkers slowly filing into the locker room and undressing. "Another bein' that it would totally ruin the surprise and it's totally something you should be surprised about because that's how I found about it and it was awesome."

"How can one man say so much about somethin' he can't say anythin' about?" Sniper asked with a shake of his head, taking up a spot under a shower head and turning the water on, not bothering to move out of the initial blast of ice-cold that faded into warmth. It helped shock his heat-addled skin.

"Look, only other thing I can say is it has somethin' to do with a certain kink you got. Reminds me a lot 'a myself, an' Demo, an' Heavy," Scout explained, turning on his own spigot and yelping at the cold, diving into Sniper's personal space and hot water until his own heated up.

The bushman ignored the darting about of his friend, used to it by now. Instead, Scout's words had his interest. "Yeh? How so?"

"Man what about, 'I can't tell you' do you not freakin' get? Lemme put it this way," Scout explained, running his hand through his hair as the water soaked into it, "I hope you think Soldier's at least a little hot 'cause you might wanna see more 'a him. Hey, can I use your shampoo? I forgot to grab mine."

Sniper handed Scout his shampoo bottle, working his hair into a lather with his other hand. "You're serious?"

"Would I kid about somethin' like that? You know me, pal. I take matters 'a the groin very seriously." Suds running down from his hair, Scout poured a liberal amount of shampoo on his hands and began to spread it over his hips and butt and down his legs, working up a lather through his fur, paying extra attention to his tail.

"You just wanted to use my shampoo because you keep runnin' out of it," Sniper observed, snatching the bottle back. "Just use soap next time."

"An' ruin this shiny, soft, luxurious coat 'a mine? Snipes, a man's gotta take pride in his groomin'."

"It's just goin' to get covered in spunk when the rest of the team gets in 'ere anyway," Sniper muttered, reaching for his soap.

"What can I say, man? Lather, rinse, repeat."

 

*

 

Soldier looked down at the fresh head in his hands, rolling it from side to side. It was fresh, retrieved from the field just moments before the final whistle blew, ending the round just after he'd respawned. It had been a blessing, however, saving him from the hassle of having to go shower.

He'd shed his old head upon getting to his room, having lobbed the offending thing out his window and into the desert to rot. He hadn't bothered to don his new head yet.

A knock at the door jarred him, and setting the head down under his bunk, Soldier cast a glance to his uniform jacket, hanging from the chair in the corner, weighing whether to put it on or not. "Who is it?" he asked, hoping the echo of his voice wouldn't give him away.

"Er, it's Sniper, mate. Scout said I should come see you?"

"One second." Several deadbolts clicking open later, the door swung open to an empty room, its occupant standing behind and opening it for the bushman. "Come on in."

Sniper did as he was bid, entering and turning as the door closed behind him, deadbolts being switched back into place. He hadn't been prepared for what he saw.

Soldier was nearly naked, standing against the door clad only in his underwear. The man was known for staying in uniform at all times, refusing to believe that one could dress in civvies without being a civilian or risking being mistaken for one. But here, out of uniform, Sniper could appreciate the broad, round, barrel-like build of Soldier's torso, muscular and thick, and peppered with just a bit of hair. Or, at least, he would have been able to, were it not for the fact that he had no head.

Where his chin would begin to join with his neck, said neck instead stopped, ending abruptly and cleanly. It was hollow, leading down into infinite darkness, from whence he could hear a soft sound of discomfort ebb up as he scrutinized the creature before him. His skin was pale, paper-white in its pallor, a greyish purple where it would darken to redder, pinker tones. He seemed to shrink a little under Sniper's wide-eyed gaze, then puff himself back up.

"You're a bloody dullahan," Sniper breathed, a smile crossing his lips. Of all of the creatures, of all of the strokes of luck, one of his own teammates had to be one of the creatures he'd never thought he'd get to bed. "But how? You've not got a horse, or that kind of power."

"Merasmus made me," Soldier explained simply, crossing his arms and tilting his neck as if there were still a head atop it. "He is an awful necromancer."

"So I've gathered," Sniper chuckled, rounding on Soldier and looking him over. "Sorry, mate, but this is just brilliant! Absolutely brilliant! How long?"

"Since '45."

"You've kept it a secret from the team this whole time?"

"Nobody seemed to question why I collect heads," Soldier shrugged.

That brought a chuckle from the bushman. "So we haven't. So how did Scout find out, then?"

"He walked in on me switching heads."

"Switchin'? Oh, is that 'ow you keep lookin' human all the time? Swap 'em out as they go bad?"

"Yes."

"Aces," Sniper mumbled with a grin, coming to stop behind the dullahan. "So 'e's told you what I'm--"

"He told me you like to have sex with supernatural creatures. Like himself, or Heavy, or Demoman."

"Wait," Sniper's heart stopped. "You know about Demo? That little mongrel told you about Demo?"

"He made me promise not to tell anyone else. But you already know, seeing as you're his boyfriend."

"I'm not 'is bloody--" Sniper sighed, "yeh, well, me an' Scout are going to 'ave a talk later, but since you've got me 'ere, I assume you're interested?"

Soldier walked over to the bed, his bare feet slapping softly against the concrete floor. "Yes," he said, sitting down on the mattress. "I'd never done anything without a head before, until Scout and I fooled around. It was... it was really good, and I want more. And I know you want to."

"Oh yeah?" Sniper asked, his voice dipping low. "And how do you know that?"

"Because I am a living dead man without a head, and you are a complete pervert."

"You got me there," the bushman laughed, shucking the sweats and t-shirt he'd thrown on after his shower, tossing aside everything but his necklace. He climbed onto the bed, letting Soldier lay back, and straddled him.

The dullahan's skin was cool to the touch, sapping the heat from Sniper's flesh. Calloused hands roved over Soldier's belly and chest, the skin cool beneath his fingertips. His smile widened as he pressed flat palms to his chest and ruffled through the sparse hair there, feeling warmth transfer from his flesh to the undead's. A soft "hmmm" escaped him as he leaned forward to press their bodies together, bellies brushing, the hair along Sniper's front tickling at Soldier's chilled skin.

"What's wrong?" Soldier asked, hands sliding up Sniper's thighs to his hips.

"Well, figured the polite way to get things going is to snog, but..." he shrugged, nodding to where Soldier's head would be.

A short laugh echoed from the dullahan, "If it helps, Scout went for my neck right away."

"That sensitive?"

"It was even before I died," Soldier shrugged, "it's even stronger now." He craned his neck to the side, as if moving a head out of the way, and exposed the soft expanse of his muscular neck and shoulder, pale and inviting.

Sniper dove in immediately, pressing warm kisses against cool skin, his tongue soon drawing trails along lines of sinew. Soft sounds began to slither out of the dead man, filling Sniper's ears with sounds completely new. Soldier was quiet and breathy even though his chest didn't move. He groaned softly, completely unlike himself. This was Soldier in bed? Sniper felt almost privileged to hear the screaming eagle reduced to small noises and gripping hands. Sharp teeth clamped down, and the gasp that rewarded him only urged him onward, sucking at his dead skin to bring sluggish blood to prickle the surface with a dark, purplish-black mark. Soldier gripped harder, writhing and squirming beneath him, his breathless panting growing huskier, his underwear bulging out with his wakening need.

The bushman nibbled his way upward, teasing near the edge of his neck, daring to trace the end of flesh with his tongue. A strange, chilly hum welcomed him, somewhere between the pins and needles of a sleeping limb and the vibrations of a battery-powered toy. It made Sniper rear back in surprise, even as Soldier gripped his hips with fingernails pressing into skin, holding him down as he began to grind upward against him.

Sniper went back to it, licking along the rim of his neck, where flesh ended and descended down into darkness within. He tongued the edge of the abyss, hot, wet flesh straddling it, tasting the salty musk of cool skin and the buzzing of the darkness it ringed. Soldier arched up into the touch, his back no longer touching the sheets as he presented himself for Sniper's hot mouth. His moans grew louder, filling the small space with panting groans as his sensitive neck was assaulted by the bushman.

When Sniper pulled away, his tongue was cool, a residual thrum slowly fading as he sucked it back into his mouth. Soldier fell to the bed, his chest rising and falling without needing to, his body slack, save the insistent erection pressing against his boxer-briefs and against Sniper's own hard length.

"So, the inside, er, what--"

"It's an abyss. I don't know how far it goes, but I don't think it stops."

"Made my tongue feel odd."

"Scout said it did that to him, too. He reached in, said it felt sort of cold."

"'e reached in? 'Course 'e would."

"It felt good when he did."

Sniper regarded Soldier with a raised eyebrow. Interesting. "It felt good?"

"Yes. Very, very good."

The bushman grinned, letting his fingers walk up Soldier's bruised and bitten shoulder, up his neck, to the edge of the abyss. He dipped his fingers in to test the waters, and heard a hiss echo out of the darkness. Soldier's body stiffened a bit, his cock twitching in his underwear. Slowly, he slipped his hand further in, until he was wrist-deep in the dullahan's neck. Soldier shivered, his groans more substantive, more hungry. His body was stiff and trembling like a man freshly penetrated, and with a smirk, Sniper began to move his arm. He pumped it slowly in and out, unfettered and untouched by anything in the wide opening of Soldier's neck, in the endless nothing of his emptiness within. Soldier's moans grew louder, more breathy, more eager, more wanton. His body shook and trembled in ways Sniper understood all too well, and all the same, Soldier ground up against him desperately. He slipped his hand back out, grazing the edge of his neck to draw another hiss out of the dead man, letting Soldier fall limp and panting onto the bed.

"Scout never did that, did 'e?" Sniper asked with a chuckle, inspecting his hand, slightly colder for his efforts.

"No," Soldier gasped, his neck stretching and tilting to the side as if he had a head at the end to loll about.

"How'd it feel, mate?"

"Like getting fucked," came the dullahan's blunt response, a breathless edge to his voice, "but not. It felt good, really good, but not like I was being touched. All of the good things of having a dick in your ass but without feeling like you have a dick in your ass. I'm not sure how to explain it."

One of the bushman's eyebrows quirked upward. "Do you like it?"

"Very much."

Soldier was rewarded for the answer with a short bout of grinding, drawing a whine from the barrel-chested dullahan.

"You want me to fuck it?"

"What?"

"Your neck, mate. What do you say to lettin' me fuck it?"

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"It's not a tight fit, so you wouldn't feel anything What would you get out of it?"

"Not so sure about that, mate. My hand didn't feel anythin', but my tongue certainly did," Sniper growled, leaning forward to lick at the edge of his neck again, making Soldier whimper and his tongue hum. "I'm thinkin' it's the sensitive bits. The moist bits. The, er, mucous membrane bits, that feel the buzzin'."

"It feels that good?"

"It feels like lickin' a vibrator. I'm hopin' I 'ave a similar reaction with my prick," Sniper chuckled against Soldier's pale skin.

Silence fell between them, Sniper's quickened breathing the only sound to fill the small room for moments that seemed to stretch into infinity. Just when the bushman had grown concerned that Soldier had really died, the dullahan broke the silence. "...how do you know what licking a vibrator is like?"

Sniper's shoulders shook with quiet, restrained laughter. "So do you want to?"

"Okay," came Soldier's reply, prompting Sniper to climb off of him and kneel at the end of the bed, sitting back on his heels.

The bushman took in the sight before him. The pale skin, the flushed, greyish-purple hue that had risen along bitten and marked shoulders and neck, the hard cock pressing against his blue boxer-briefs, the small wet spot where its tip rested against the fabric, all combined into a wonderfully lurid, completely deviant image before Sniper's eyes. "On your hands and knees," he beckoned, hand slipping down to tug slowly at his cock.

Soldier did as he was told, climbing to his knees then falling forward to his hands, on all fours before Sniper. He couldn't help but notice the ravenous grin on the assassin's face as a hand fell to his shoulder, guiding the dullahan forward as he held his cock at the ready.

Kneeling up, Sniper slipped his cock past the edge of Soldier's flesh, entering the open expanse of his neck. He bit his lip, a breath hissing in through his nose as the delicious hum of the abyss began to course through him and tickle at his flesh. Soldier's voice, groaning low and hungry, rushed out around him as he slid in deeper. Sniper's flesh was viciously awake, humming and prickling in a way that was simultaneously alien and just familiar enough. Abuzz with sensation, it was like being caressed with cool silk, barely extant, like a soft breeze that brought with it vibrations that thrummed through his entirety, spreading electric shivers up his spine. He slid out slowly, feeling the strange hum recede to the barest buzz near the edge of the dullahan's neck, only to redouble the sensation as he thrust in again. Breathless, he asked, "'ow you doin', mate?"

Soldier couldn't respond, his groans growing louder and louder with each thrust, with each incremental increase in Sniper's speed. He supported himself on one arm, the other beneath him, palming eagerly at his crotch through his underwear. He lurched forward with each of Sniper's movements, rutting into his hand as he took the assassin into his neck.

With a grin, Sniper buried himself to the root, the edge of Soldier's neck coming to rest in his pubic hair, engulfing cock and his close-hitched balls in humming darkness. Chills ran up Sniper's back as his guts began to well with heat and pressure, his hands shaking as he held onto Soldier's shoulder, nails digging into pale skin. Holding him there, he began to snap his hips, short, hard thrusts driving himself into Soldier with abandon. Slightly muffled cries of ecstasy echoed around him as Soldier rocked to meet his thrusts, growing more and more frenzied with each eager grind into his own hand.

Soldier was close, so close, and Sniper watched as his body quaked and shook, listening to the beautiful symphony his whimpers and moans wound into. One hand slipped from the thicker man's shoulder, trailing long fingers up to his neck, until he reached the crook, where the marks he'd left were their darkest. Crooking his fingertips, he dragged his nails up Soldier's neck, and that had done it. With a throaty keen, Soldier came in his underwear, soaking through to leave his hand sticky as he stilled and shook, shuddering with each pulse of his cock and spurt into his boxer-briefs. He sagged a bit as the orgasm faded, and Sniper rolled his hips slowly, biting back his own climax.

"Where do you want me?" he asked, his voice strained with need.

"What?" Soldier mumbled, his arm barely supporting him.

"Where should I come?"

With that, the dullahan pulled away from Sniper's cock, flopping chest-down onto the bed, his ass still in the air. "On me," he panted, back flexing as he stretched. "On my back."

Sniper did as he was told, grabbing hold of his cock in one hand, balls in the other, and with not much tugging, spilled out onto his teammate's back with a strangled grunt.

Falling to his hip, the bushman licked his lip, seeing the distinct lack of difference between the colours of Soldier's undead flesh and the fresh, hot ejaculate speckling his muscular back. It sent a shiver through him. He flopped over sideways onto the bed, trying to get as much of his long, rangy body as he could onto the mattress, and curled up. "You alright, mate?"

"Yeah, I am great," came Soldier's reply, bleary and mush-mouthed.

Sniper tried not to think too much about why an undead creature, one that did not need to breathe, nor knew any concept of fatigue, would sound like a panting, mumbling wreck. That would require questioning how an undead creature was able to obtain and maintain an erection, how an undead creature was able to ejaculate, and how an undead creature was able to be an undead creature. Magic was a wonderful catch-all answer for such things, and satisfied him just fine.

Likely, it was the most accurate answer, as well.


End file.
